Taste of Iron

Thirty Five: Nothing Like A Quickie In The Office

Thirty Five: Nothing Like A Quickie In The Office

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." Atlas cursed over and over again, his voice barely a whisper. His fingers were gripping Emil's hair, which was much longer and pull-able now.

Emil hadn't wasted a single second after Atlas gave him confirmation. He was quick in unzipping his pants, pulling them and his briefs down till his thighs as he got on his knees. There was no time to go slow, or show Atlas his sweet lovin'. Emil had to get to business right away as he took as much of Atlas as he could in his mouth.

It was barely half of Atlas's length, but he made do by wrapping his palm around the part he couldn't take in his throat. Atlas looked down, only to see Emil already staring up at him. The sight was so goddamn erotic, and Atlas couldn't help but push his hips into Emil's mouth.

The crime boss hummed against Atlas's dick, sending the vibration down the chef's very spine as he bit his lower lip to stop the sounds from escaping his mouth. They not only had to be quick, but also quiet.

Emil grabbed Atlas's thighs, before his hands travelled up to take hold of the man's ass instead. He paused for a moment, quickly putting his finger in his mouth to wet it, before sucking Atlas's dick again. His finger found the spot it was looking for, circling around the ring of muscles as he rubbed gently.

Atlas was losing his shit. He really wasn't one to cum quickly. So maybe it was Emil and the warmth of his mouth or maybe it was the thrill of doing it at his workplace with his boss, in an office that belonged to neither of them— that was driving the executive chef crazy.

"I'm so..." Atlas trailed off, but he didn't need to finish his sentence for Emil to know what he meant. Emil increased his speed, both of his mouth and his finger as he worked simultaneously.

Atlas was moving his lips too, not knowing whether he was doing it to go further into Emil's throat or to fuck himself deeper into his finger. Maybe both?

Probably both.

...Definitely both.

It didn't take long for Atlas to cum after that. He tried to warn the gangster, to pry his head away, but Emil didn't move an inch as he sucked the blue haired man dry, milking it till the very last drop. He looked up, their eyes meeting, and Emil swallowed. Atlas was breathing heavily, his chest moving up and down in an uneven fashion as Emil stood up, a grin on his face.

"I don't know what's more delicious," Emil said. "The food you cook or... you."

"Uh huh."

Atlas was too dazed to reply or care much about Emil's flirtations. Emil chuckled, before helping the chef zip up his pants again. Emil had an erection too, but they knew they didn't have the time to take care of it.

"Tonight," Atlas stated. "Tonight is your turn."

With that promise, and after making sure their clothes and hair were alright, the men finally exited Shawn's office. They stepped into the kitchen to see Denise looking at Atlas, her expression concerned.

"Um, I'm sorry Chef, but we're out of tomatoes. We had enough produce but it was bad and we can't use it for—"

"That's alright," Atlas cut her off, waving his hand dismissively as he smiled at the woman. "I'll give Walt a call and he'll bring more. Don't worry."

Denise stared at him, stunned, but nodded nonetheless. Atlas glanced at the gangster, winking at him discreetly before getting back to work.

Emil stood at his spot, his arms folded against his chest as he watched Atlas get back into action. Leo made his way to the crime boss, his brows furrowed as he spoke.